The First & The Last
by RC691
Summary: [AU YohxAnna] The War of Advent has many secrets. Vengeful clans, religious machinations, imperial conspiracies...but what if all this only reveals a much deadlier foe? The hidden truth about their world is at stake, and Yoh's past is in the details....


Standard Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. I don't own Shaman King. It all belongs to Hiroyuki Takei. So there.

A/N—I made this fic in order to hone my skills as I delve into college writing, and I hope that I made a well written one to make it worth your time to read. Rated T for scenes, some language, adult behavior, and suggestive themes. Assume every character to be 18 years old unless stated/hinted/obviously otherwise. There will be romance eventually, of course, but if you're looking for an "instant love" (everything seems to be instant nowadays) then you've come to the wrong place. But if you're patient with my writing...well, let's just say this isn't your average anime fic. Please read and review! Outright praise makes for good motivation (and helps me write better scenes), but I will also accept constructive criticisms from you guys (no flames please). Just make sure that you're very detailed about it, especially when you want to critique the narration, the dialogue, and character development, okay? Nice.

* * *

**Prologue**

There was a time, in a faraway world, where a single giant continent was home to a race of beings called humans. But for more than 4,000 years of recorded history they were wrought with bloody wars and political conflict; a dark age made by guilds all fighting for power and control. It was only when the Sagashima clan finally reached power did law and order finally come into being, and ever since their victory they ruled the world by establishing themselves into an empire that spanned the entire continent. This time was known as the Imperial Era—an age of relative prosperity, if not peace, that spread across the land.

Year 4300, under the Sagashima dynasty. Located in the center of the continent was Imperial City Reikai, the grand forefront of the Empire's base of operations. To the south laid vast wastelands, with a few villages scattered here and there, while the west was a huge mountain range of wooded foothills and bloodstained mires. The north was home to places like Hokkaido—villages famous for its blue-haired Ainu townsfolk—while the east was an economic breeding ground with the city of Izumo as its main source of knowledge and technology, though the latter was primitive at best.

But nothing could have prepared these people for what they were about to face. A time of pain, prejudice, betrayal, and something else...otherworldly.

Year 4377. Advent; the year when a small fraction of humanity was struck with a mysterious force, with bright auras temporarily engulfing random individuals before giving them impressive physical abilities. The power "integrated" unto them was named Furyoku, and it soon signaled the beginning of a new age of mankind. The first documented case of the existence of a new form of human: the shaman.

Year 4378. Public fear for the shamans was at an alarming height. Many died mad of the power they tried to exploit, and the ones who managed to learn control were mostly irresponsible and reckless. The increased number of criminals and underground organizations, made bold by their new shaman status, posed a significant threat for the Empire to contain. Led by Emperor Koku Sagashima, an overwhelming majority of humanity expressed contempt over the shaman populace. With such power, they would often ask, how come only a few have it? What had others done to disqualify themselves from receiving such a gift, this "integration of power"? Were these shamans even responsible enough to handle themselves? Could they even be trusted? Such an arbitrary allocation of power was unacceptable and demeaning to humans, and with the shamans appearing to be superior in comparison, some humans wondered why they even existed at all.

Unfortunately, the shamans who did care about the issue were hopelessly divided as to how they should motivate public sympathy for their kind. Disunity and the lack of a charismatic leader simply proved too big a hurdle for the shamans to overcome, and all attempts for reforms or peace talks were subsequently crushed.

Years 4379 to 4399 was a time when anti-shaman sentiments were widespread throughout the land, its effectiveness largely due to the discovery of rare crystallite metal and its peculiar property to glow near shamans. With their secrets easily exposed and exploited, the shamans were given much psychological discord. But faith in the Shaman King—faith in a divine savior and his imminent descent from paradise—served as a godsend that softened the blow. There was speculation among the masses that a mysterious fanatical group known only as the "X-Laws" circulated this dogma, but the existence of such an organization was yet to be fully verified.

Year 4400. After more than two decades of hardship, abuse and public paranoia, the shamans finally mustered the courage to demand reforms and mutual respect for their kind by means of destructive rebellion. One of the main proponents of this move was the anarchist group Skisma. Arguably the most powerful and influential shaman organization at the time, their specialist units disrupted key trade routes and destroyed any opposing armies, with one of their sorties resulting in the infamous "Bloody Day" massacre which resulted in thousands of humans destroyed by the hands of only a handful of shamans. Of course, these acts also kindled fear and the desire for war within the hearts of humans, and the emperor quickly declared the War of Advent to expunge the shaman threat once and for all.

In the first months of the fighting, the shamans had the upper hand. The reason simply lied in the vast difference of fighting skill between the two forces. People soon learned that beyond the "default integration" present in all shamans was a more powerful ability only some possessed...the oversoul. Shamans with this level of skill could harness far more Furyoku so long as they held a weapon made from heartstone—a hard metal even rarer than crystallite—and their effect on the war was so great it fueled rumors of some being able to summon the four elements, of others healing themselves of mortal wounds, and of a few people capable of manipulating even the grim manifestations of their nightmares.

Observations of the war noted that most shaman forces used swords, spears and warhammers to maximize oversoul output, while most humans made use of arbalests and ballistae in order to kill at a distance and avoid close-range combat. Both sides had to discard body armor, however, to no one's surprise; its weight hindered a shaman's inherent agility and it provided little protection from most attacks of either side, which prompted the two forces to put greater emphasis on weapons and recruits.

Year 4401. Unfortunately for the shamans, they failed to keep hold of their initial advantage, and the lack of a unifying political leader, constant meddling of third parties and lack of additional manpower soon took their toll. Rumors of Skisma being wiped out by a "giant, walking inferno" brought fear and stifled their morale, ignorant and reckless use of oversoul left many shamans mad, and as the Imperial Army began to enjoy a mysterious rise in military strength, the shamans were on the verge of being completely annihilated.

Year 4403. Just when the Empire was about to land the deathblow, however, came a new shaman presence. With their legion of loyal soldiers, the unexpected Tao military force helped their shamans brethren recover from being hopelessly outnumbered to being back on an even playing field. Utilizing new martial arts techniques and eschewing defensive guerilla tactics for more aggressive cavalry warfare, these people from the unexplored west were determined to end the war and renew the current form of government, though they kept their reasons for doing so a well-guarded secret.

* * *

Located in the only path that connected Hokkaido to the rest of the world, the city of Funbari was best known for its tourism and recreational facilities, as well as a burgeoning industry that made it one of the richest cities in the world. But the war had cost it terrible economic consequences, and the local government wisely declared neutrality before it could be further influenced by any outsiders. But in Year 4400 a large group of shamans forcefully barged in and took the entire city hostage, threatening to kill as many civilians as necessary unless the Emperor surrendered all arms and stopped the war.

However, the Empire simply saw this as yet another convenient proof of the wretched nature of shamans, and sent a platoon to kill the rebels even if it meant having to sacrifice the hostages and ransack Funbari to do it. Suspected sympathizers were killed alongside the renegade shamans, and with a destroyed local government the crippled city was soon overrun by burgeoning guilds fighting for their own agendas—a phenomenon many historians considered to be a revival of the anarchical years.

Year 4403. Three years since the start of the war, and where the story of a young man's journey would emerge and change the world forever.

* * *

**Act I - Brave Heart**

**1.1 - Beginnings**

"After her! Don't let her get away from your sights!"

Deep in Funbari's undercity, a young woman swiftly made her way through the streets, her keen senses allowing her dodge a few arrows despite the darkness of the night. They had to know that they were firing blind at her, but then again, their hatred for her had long thrown prudence out the window, and she doubted that their pursuit would run out of steam anytime soon. Not that she expected anything less, of course. The pale moonlight gave little light to navigate, but outnumbered as she was, she had no other choice but to try and lose them in the shadows. She herself was on the brink of losing her own way within these unknown paths, but better that than to present her guildmaster with proof of her own failure, as well as the fact that she did not do her assigned task tonight.

"Keep chasing her down! Shoot her lame if you have to!"

All her life, she had always considered herself lucky enough to have heard better stories of this place, of how the undercity once was before the War of Advent. A bustling marketplace in the old days, a favorite of those who loved trade and commerce. But all that changed in less than a year, and the grim reminder the Empire left quickly became a rendezvous point for guilds who did not mind making a few dangerous deals in order to further their own cause. It went without saying that trading and fabricating secrets was at a premium here; any informant's offer to barter information had its risks, but there was also no denying the great opportunity in it, and her job in facilitating which transactions would transpire and which would not was but one of many steps her guild took to assert themselves. Hers was not the noblest of professions, obviously, but it gave her a roof and kept her alive, though she often wondered just how much.

An arrow was but a hair away from wounding her left ear. Could she really escape their wrath? Or more importantly, could she run away from them forever? Should she unsheathe her katana now and gamble for a resolution? A funny thought, especially when drawing blood was the very reason she was being hunted down in the first place. Suddenly, she recognized the sound in her throat as something bitter, a cruelly woeful chuckle, and stifled it. No. Now was not the time for that, and her pursuer would have none of it.

She evaded a few more arrows as she turned around a corner. Thoughts of escape ran through her mind, no matter how endless it seemed, yet with one step, she was forced to stop, blood draining from her feet. She found herself facing a dead end.

Cornered at last, the young woman slowly turned to her pursuer. Not that she needed further proof, but the sight of his peculiar hairstyle, and of his muscular physique, were more than enough to tell her that it was him. Ryunosuke Umemiya. The shaman leader of the Dead Enders. If her death seemed likely then, it was certain now, yet she found herself, much to her surprise, strangely calm. "It seems you've finally caught me, Ryu...and on the first attempt too. So why aren't your men shooting me to death?"

"Your fate's been long sealed ever since you betrayed us," he said gruffly. "And as for my men, they won't fire without my command. Besides, killing you in a hail of arrows wouldn't rest easy in my mind. I'll be the one to finish you off...just like I promised."

"You remembered? Who would have thought..." Memories of their last meeting came to mind, as well as his pact to never utter her name again. It cut through her heart like a razor. "To tell you the truth all I had in mind was to escape from you for as long as I can, but seeing as you have me surrounded...then I guess I have no choice but to kill you to survive."

Ryu drew a sword from his back and oversouled, the channeled energy blazing in a beacon of purple light. "You never had a choice to begin with. I'll break you in half, don't you worry, but rest assured that I won't let your body become food for the rats. A poor man's burial is the least I could do, after all...for someone like you."

Saying nothing, she drew her katana, seizing all the Furyoku her integration would allow. If it was a duel he wanted, if a fight to the death was the only thing that could settle his grudge against her, then so be it. Further talk was of no use at this point. As for her chances of surviving...she regarded herself to be a strong shaman, in fact quite stronger than most of the scrubs that polluted this place, but she only had integration to count on, and she doubted that it would be of much help against Ryu's oversoul.

A soft wind ruffled the bandana on her head, and she realized that Ryu had yet to make the first move. Why was he hesitating? Well then, if he was just going to stand there, then she would just have to initiate the alpha strike. She quickly charged ahead, her muscles almost jerking after her sudden movements, as she strained for every advantage she could find. Flows of Furyoku surrounding her sword, she stared at Ryu dead in the eye, and aimed to slash his throat before he could even flinch.

A clash of sharp metal echoed, and her eyes widened at the sight. Ryu had his broadsword holding her katana back, with only as much as a bead of sweat from him. He managed to block? But how? She was sure she had him then; her aim had been perfect. She quickly thought of another mode of attack, but that was all that entered her mind before she found herself flung away like a rag doll. It was more than a hard push, but she managed to land on her feet.

It was now Ryu's turn to charge, his sword blazing purple and aimed to slice her in two. Too slow for her as she quickly dodged his attack, though, and attempted to exploit an opening and run him through, but Ryu saw this beforehand and blocked her assault. Grimacing, she tried to counter. A pattern of similar strikes soon followed; metal clanged and struck at each other, sparks flying everywhere as they fought, but she was tiring faster than he was. She soon found herself on the defensive, and it was all she could do until Ryu swung a stroke that took all her power just to hold back.

Her black eyes hardened. The fight was taking far too long. Even with Ryu being slow in his attacks, his power alone...his power was incredible! She had never seen anything like it. Was the difference of power level between him and her—and of every other shaman she knew as well—really _this _high? Any one of his blows could kill her on the spot, and with his sword grinding against hers it was only a matter of time before she was cut through. She needed to push him away. Desperate, she wove all the flows of Furyoku she could, as far as her limit would take her plus more, and pushed Ryu out of their deadlock. He fell to the ground with a surprised grunt.

Breathless, she fell to her knees, having burned herself out. She had hoped to push Ryu a bit farther back, but draining oneself out of Furyoku was a far better alternative than being cleaved in two, and at the very least it stopped Ryu's tempo short. But was it enough to turn the tide to her favor?

Gasps from Ryu's men filled the air, and some began to stir their quivers—she had forgotten about them, and found herself completely open to attack—but Ryu was quick to signal for them to stop. Already he stood tall, as if her attack meant nothing to him, and had his eyes locked on to hers like daggers. "So, is that one of the tricks you learned after all this time? Well, forgive me if I didn't break my head over it. But if that's the only thing you're ever going to lay on me, with you already out of breath, then I guess it's about time for me to finish this."

Twirling his broadsword, Ryu channeled Furyoku in large amounts, filling his sword with weaves upon weaves of harnessed energy. An all-or-nothing attack? Normally nothing she had not seen before, taking into account the many shaman enemies she had fought, but she felt something odd here. The amount of Furyoku he had...was he..._forming_ something? She then realized that this was no ordinary form of channeling, and she made haste to stand. She found herself barely able to do so, with her having little Furyoku to manage, but she meant to prepare for whatever was about to happen.

Ryu raised his sword high. With a shout—a howl in her ears, a roar—Ryu pointed his sword at her, and in an instant the channeled flow of Furyoku split into eight and came after her.

Genuine fear went up her spine at the sight. What the hell was _that!_ More fantastic rumors about oversoul were said, of course, but this was something even hardened shamans would be hard-pressed to perform. Or was Ryu even more of a remarkable shaman than even she gave him credit for? Panic threatened to grip her, almost sapping away the remaining will she had, but her instinct—more like a voice, really—made her attempt to evade the hunting lightning she faced instead.

She moved quickly. Two missed their mark, with one ripping her scabbard clean off her side, while a couple hit the path in front of her instead. Two more missed her, while one managed to scratch her left arm. She tried to dodge the last, but it struck her left leg with a clean hit. She fell to the ground hard. Neither blood nor fracture occurred, but the sharp pain it dealt more than ensured her fate.

"Just a little something I picked up while using oversoul," Ryu said. "Not the comical goof anymore, now am I?"

The young woman groaned as she tried to get up, staggering to the point where her injured leg would allow her, but something struck her between the shoulder blades, driving her back down. Stunned, she looked to find Ryu's shoe planted firmly on her back. Was he toying with her now? She hoped not, for her sake. "Why don't you finish it?"

Ryu simply gazed at her like he would an insect, and for all that she had done, she felt very deserving of that. The Dead Enders...but she only did what was necessary, what she was told then was the right thing to do, and she had no other choice. But why try to explain that to him when he had already closed his heart to her? He applied pressure to his foot, and she felt pain course through her ribs.

"Kill her now, boss!" It was one of Ryu's men. He sounded like rock being ground to dust—or something quite like it—but fury and hatred could do that to any man's voice. "She had a hand in destroying our dreams...in destroying our Best of Place!"

Pain blurred her mind, but she knew what the man meant. The Best of Place. That was the Dead Ender's ultimate goal, and Ryu's favorite concept. A place for everyone to have their desires and wants; the perfect utopian society. A stark contrast from the corrupt motives of all the other guilds. Yet the Dead Enders failed to turn heads when they first revealed themselves, and as far as their influence was concerned they only got to the naive and senile to join their cause. What could a bunch like that even accomplish in the long run? Ryu was the strongest shaman she knew but he was far outnumbered in comparison to other guilds and being so vulnerable earned them little respect. A bunch of idealistic, comical hindrances; just one of the many reasons her guildmaster gave when she was given her mission to...

"Don't worry your head off, Ball Boy. Just keeping her in place." She could feel Ryu readying to do the final blow. "This won't take long."

Her fingers clawed against the ground; under the full moon she could see Ryu's shadow lift a sword that still shone of oversoul. Was this the end for her? She simply closed her eyes. Here she would die, and no one would mourn.

"Have you always picked on women like her, you piece of crap?"

What the...?

She opened her eyes. She was still alive? The sight of Ryu standing a few paces in front of her meant that he had yet to deliver the killing blow, and the relief of not having his foot on her back made it easier to try and move. And then there was that voice. Was someone actually...helping her? She crawled to lean herself on a wall, the pain on her leg making it impossible to stand. After everything that had happened, it almost seemed too easy. She heard the sound of punches, kicks, and shouts filling the air, and the next thing she saw, all of Ryu's men were down on the ground.

Without Ryu's men blocking her view, she had a clear sight of who the person was. A young man no older than she was, at least not to a large degree, wearing ordinary clothes and an orange band that tied his brown hair in place. Perhaps someone dangerous, given the katana by his side, but she found herself quite at ease. Strange. She had yet to have trust for strangers, and thought herself to be a hard enough woman, but she felt no fear at the sight of this man.

Not so for Ryu, of course. Perhaps he had been too surprised to act earlier, but now he seized so much Furyoku that it threatened to break his medium to pieces. Well, almost anyway. "You beat all eight of my men so quickly? You've got a lot of spunk, kid. I'll give you that. Maybe an assassin sent to kill me? Or just some fool thinking he can play hero for that woman?" He actually chuckled at that one. "In any case, you'll pay for interrupting my business!"

"Oh really? I don't consider trying to save a woman's life to be something I'd soon regret." He was not the least bit fazed. "Do you really want to fight me over that? Try to reconsider while you still can."

"Are you threatening me? Ha! You rotten punk!" There was no warning as Ryu channeled again, filling himself with Furyoku, and raised his sword high. "I'll crush you like a bug by the time I'm done with you!"

"No..." At that instant she knew that Ryu planned to do his attack again, and on how she fared against it. She was burned out at the time, but still a shaman, and her skills at dodging helped to minimize her hits to just one that almost took away her life. Compared to that, did this guy even know what he was up against? She needed to warn him at the very least, but Ryu had roared and fired his jagged streaks of light before she could utter a single word.

"Strong...but not fast enough."

He unsheathed his katana, and it immediately blazed with a blue aura. She gasped upon feeling his sudden surge of power; she had thought Ryu's strength almost consumed her before. But this...! _This _much oversoul from someone her age? Impossible! But there could be no mistake to what she just witnessed; with Furyoku swelling in his sword, he let his power fly, a blue crescent wave of light. It struck all of Ryu's lightning bolts, breaking them apart into harmless mist. A moment was all it took. Without time to dodge, Ryu took a direct hit and crumpled to the ground.

Wasting no time, the young man jumped high—another proof of his physical prowess—and landed to where Ryu fell, and pointed his blazing katana straight at the man's face. Just a perfunctory gesture; he had long been victor of the match. As for Ryu, a large chunk of his white shirt was smoldered from where the wave hit him, smoke rising from the charred material, and he certainly showed no sign of getting back with a second wind. But seeing as the man was still alive, Anna doubted the attack was at full power, or else there would have been a bloodbath.

Ryu, for his part, simply smiled. "Hmph. You beat me in one hit. Aren't you finishing it?"

"I can't think of any business to be worth killing a woman for," he growled, "and to give you the benefit of the doubt I don't want to do the same to you as well. So unless you think otherwise, I'd like you and your boys to leave. Now."

He looked at her for a moment. Ryu was to be spared? A part of her wanted him to rip Ryu's throat out, but an even greater part—most likely her 'moral' side—found it to be a good decision. That did not still the hurt, though. She said nothing.

It took a while for Ryu to ponder upon it, and he snarled and glared at his captor the entire time, but he eventually gave in. "Bastard. You want to concern yourself with that woman? You'll pay for not finishing me off when you had the chance." He snapped his fingers, and his minions, who were just standing in shock, quickly rushed to help him get back on his feet. They made sure not to make eye contact with the young man, of course, much less anything else; his attack alone made sure of that. "You think you can beat me so easily next time? Just know that we'll be back for the two of you, punk! Count on that!"

The young man watched as Ryu and his men took their leave, and only when they were out of sight did he sheath back his katana. With that done, he moved to kneel by her side. "Sorry if I came late. Are you alright?"

Was she? Wincing for a bit she looked at her left leg, and found that an unsightly bruise had formed on it. Had she not been born a shaman, her leg would have been torn apart. "My leg's been better...but don't bother about it." She winced again; it clenched hard like a fist. "I...I'm not used to being saved like this. Thank you for your help, but I..." She bit her lip. As if already expecting that from her the young man offered to carry her in his arms, being careful not to appear the least bit imposing, but she shook her head. "You don't have to take care of me. I'm a shaman, and I'll be fine by myself."

Concern showed on his face. "You're hurt, and you can barely stand straight as it is. Being a shaman won't save you from everything, and what use would be me saving you if I would just leave you out here anyway? I know you and I have just met, but you don't have to be afraid of me. I'm here to help you, not hurt you."

She hesitated to answer. It still surprised her that he was being so kind when they did not even know each other, but then again, she would have thought otherwise had she been raised anywhere else—life in the undercity meant no room for making outside friends. But even then, why was she feeling so...? Normally she was only like this when alone, and not even as much, but with him around she found her emotions getting the best of her. Was it because he saved her life? She knew it to be more than that. "It's not that I don't trust you. It's...it's something else."

"Are you mad because I let Ryu live?"

"No!" Her tone grated far more than she intended. "It's not even that at all!" Kill Ryu? He was a saint compared to what she had done to him! Truth be told, she never wanted to kill him, and she would not have aimed for that had she not been forced to fight him earlier, but could she really blame him for his actions? The hurt creeping back to her heart—his words were more than enough to rekindle it—she clenched her fists until they shook, trying hard to suppress the memories, but a few hot tears had already fallen from her eyes. She was crying? She would not have minded had she done so when Ryu was about to kill her, but to do so here to someone she had never met...how daft could she get? Embarrassed, she suddenly wished for the fight back, or at least the chase—the absence of thought in them was a comfort. With just the two of them here... A deep shade of red formed on her cheeks.

It was a surprise to her, then, to feel fingers wiping her tears away, and found that the young man beside her had been doing just that. Why was she crying like this? People in her guild considered her to be the coldest woman alive, and even with that she well understood why she acted differently alone or to Ryu, but why was she being so pathetic now to this complete stranger? Of course, a callous bystander would just dismiss her emotions; it has been proven time and again that shamans were in general far less emotionally stable than humans. But still, the question burned in her heart like wildfire. "If you only knew who I really am..."

"Are you thinking that you're someone so horrible as to be not worth my effort to save, is that it? Is that why you're crying?"

She bit her lip again, stifling a sob. The moral dilemma between her and Ryu was only part of the problem, as well as her embarrassment; in truth, it was not so much as her being saved by him as to its repercussions. For one thing, this guy just beat a man she knew to be far stronger than anyone her guild had to offer. There was nothing her guildmaster could do about him; she herself was one of his strongest assassins. With his strength, he could finally end her rotten life at last. "Let's just say that I don't deserve to be helped by someone like you, okay?" But could she bear to burden his own life, even endanger it, just for that? She dared not tell him. "Much less being taken care of."

He shook his head. "You don't really mean that, do you?"

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"I don't believe for a moment that you're not worth being saved. Who told you that kind of stupidity? I can see it in your eyes...you're more than what you're telling yourself to be."

"You don't even know—"

"Now's not about that." His voice was firmer this time, but gentle just the same. "Now's not even about what you've done wrong in your life. Now's about you being in no condition to be here...and I honestly think you're in too much of an emotional crisis. I can try to help you, but I can't do it without you wanting me to."

"You've already put yourself in trouble by saving my life," she replied, making sure that she had composed herself from her recent breakdown, no matter how justified. "You're not bothered by Ryu? By my...?"

"Even if he find us, I won't let him hurt you." His eyes glimmered as he spoke. "Whatever you did with your life, we can talk about that when you're a lot better, but I won't force you to talk about it if you don't want to. You have your problems, I know, and I realize how hard it can be to trust strangers like me in a place like this...but even if you don't even know me at all, even for just a few days...will you trust me to help you?" He held her right hand, his eyes glimmering again. Was he about to cry too? No tears fell from his eyes, but somehow, she already knew why if he ever did, and it was not because she cried herself. "Even if you won't do it for me as gratitude...will you do it for yourself?"

With her left hand, she fingered her mala. Trust... Even with her katana laying just a few paces away from her, the ruined edge it received from Ryu's oversoul made it useless outside decoration. She was simply accursed no matter where she looked at it. Which, of course, brought her back to her dilemma at hand, but she did not want to delve about it. Right now, peace of mind was what she needed, at least to sort out her thoughts for the upcoming day ahead. She looked again at his brown eyes. She was going to have to trust him, and deep in her heart she sincerely hoped she would not wreck his life the way she wrecked Ryu's, for both their sakes. She slowly nodded. "...okay. I will."

He showed her a smile, and lifted her up in his arms to carry her off, being particularly careful not to move her injured leg too much. He began to head west. "You can thank me later, after you've gotten a taste of my homemade soup. That is, if that kid Manta hadn't finished all of it already. That boy's been under a lot of stress."

Soup? Her stomach rumbled at the thought, reminding her that she had yet to eat anything good since morning, but she had a feeling that whatever he had cooked was far better than the half-edible slop she had long accustomed herself with. "Soup...would be nice." She then noticed that his smile made her smile too. Faint enough for him not to notice, but still a smile. "And my name...you can call me Anna. Anna Kyouyama."

His smile turned into a full grin. "And you can call me Yoh. Yoh Asakura."

"So your name is Yoh, hm?" Stifling a yawn, she found herself snuggling to him, fatigue closing her eyes. Now when was the last time she had a good sleep? She pushed away her worries for now. She knew nothing about him, but for some reason, she had never felt so safe.

**TBC**


End file.
